Familial Bonds
by Symphonic Silence
Summary: It's their eldest daughter's birthday and Snow has a special surprise for her. Meanwhile, Lightning remains at home with her son and finds the perfect way to bond with him.
1. Chapter 1

It was a day's drive to the nearest town with a train that would take them to the city outside of Academia. The train ride itself was an eight-hour ordeal of less-than-stellar accommodations, peeling paint, and uncomfortable seats: the fall of Cocoon may have been over twenty years ago, but the transportation department still had a ways to go to get where it used to be. As Snow glanced out the window and across the sprawling expanse of the Archylte Steppes, he couldn't help but wonder if this snail's pace could have been beaten by a jogging chocobo. He sighed at the thought and pressed himself back into his seat, rubbing his temples and glancing at his snoozing riding partner to help pass time.

Snow's trench coat, repaired so much that it was practically new, was draped across the young woman's body into a makeshift blanket. Her legs were curled up into the seat, sitting in a weird cross-legged hybrid that would have been uncomfortable for anyone else. Eyes, a ghostly blue when opened, were squeezed tightly shut to guard against the rays of the setting sun and a small mouth pursed while she slept. A gloved fist was wrapped in her hair, lost in the champagne-colored locks that were normally tied back into a haphazard ponytail. Peeking out from her beneath her gloves was a black splash of ink, one that none here save Snow would ever recognize – it was hard to forget what a l'Cie's brand looked like, even after all these years. The tattoo artist hadn't known what it was that he was crafting on the woman's arm, but _she_ knew, and getting the artwork stamped on her wrist had been worth the grounding that her mother had given her.

Snow looked back out the window and smirked at the memory. Lightning had been _livid_ when their daughter came home with a fresh spot of ink bravely on display. Snow had tried to calm her down, tried to tell Lightning that it wasn't a big deal, but that had only irritated her further. Their brands, she explained, were a constant reminder of what would happen if they were to fail, of the fate that was worse than death that could have awaited them: it wasn't a badge of honor. It had cost them their homes, their planet, and the lives they once knew, and now their darling daughter had paid a hefty fee to have it stamped on her wrist for the world to see and question. Her tirade continued for some time, ending with a punishment that everyone knew was coming, but still their eldest smirked and high-fived her dad under the table when Lightning wasn't looking.

The memory made him chuckle under his breath and turn his gaze back to the daughter that so strongly resembled her mother, in attitude if not in looks. "Wake up, kid," he said softly, nudging her awake. "We're almost there."

She rubbed at her eyes and groaned. "Wake me up when we're there, not when we're _almost_ there…" A blind hand was groping for the edges of Snow's jacket and, once found, she hoisted it up further, burrowed into the cocoon she had made for herself, and began to fall back asleep.

He yanked his coat off of her and threw it around his own shoulders. She complained, but it had the desired effect – she was already stretching and working out the kinks, waking up after the long day of traveling that they left behind them, and getting their two bags packed and ready to go.

Snow eyed the unfashionably ripped jeans his daughter wore, saw the tee that was cut off at just the right spot to show tight biceps, and smiled again – she was her mother's daughter, all right. Instead of getting gussied up to go to the city that the village kids dreamed of visiting, she put on her regular clothes, some tennis shoes, and waited at the door for her father to finish getting ready – offering halfhearted complaints the whole time.

It was a good thing Lightning had secretly packed a second bag for her.

Snow hoisted the secret bag over his shoulder while the train crawled to a stop. "Too bad your uncle Hope didn't come with us," Snow mused. "He knows this city better than I do. I'm not sure where the hotel is."

"We'll figure it out," she shrugged. "You and mom managed to travel all over this planet before without getting lost, right? How bad can a city be compared to that?"

"Ah, youthful optimism," he sighed breathily. "I can't wait to crush it." He nodded forward at the man waving them off the train. "Time to go, Nora." With Snow taking the lead, he and his daughter stepped off the train's platform. For Nora, this would be her first time in the city proper. He made his way through the train station, got vague directions on where to head next, and then stepped outside onto the sidewalk.

"Welcome to Academia," he said, smiling as Nora glanced around to take in the bustling streets, the massive crowds of people, the neon lights and advertisements that blocked the night sky. Though she was as careful with her expressions as Lightning was, Snow could still see the wonder and intimidation battling for control in Nora's eyes.

Her head swiveled around her, taking in all the sights, before her gaze fell back to the street and the people wandering around on them. It was obvious that they were a different breed than the country folk like her and Snow, that they didn't have to fight for their survival in quite the same way that the Villiers' family did. He could see her doing the calculations that Lightning and Snow both had taught her, figuring out the best way to take control of the situation and win every battle presented to her. Normally she was excellent at this, but the sheer volume of people and the extreme foreignness of the situation had her reeling.

He took a step forward and nudged her. "Don't worry about it _too_ much." Nora's eyes sharply spun to Snow's, questioning. It was to be expected: fearsome beasts constantly roamed near their home, so vigilance was a necessity in their life. "They have their own police force here, and monsters don't want anything to do with this place." He shifted all his bags over one shoulder and used his free hand to gently push Nora forward. "The only thing you have to worry about are pickpockets and guys looking at you funny."

She snorted at that. It was so unladylike that it made him proud.

"I'm serious though. If you see a guy looking at you, let me know. I'll beat his ass."

"You'll have to get in line."

An hour later they were in their hotel room, a small but cozy place with two tiny beds that were just big enough for Nora. Though she was taller than many people he knew – her height rivaled Hope's – she was still nothing compared to Snow.

It was going to be a rough night's sleep.

"We can talk to the staff, ask them for a different room…"

"Don't worry about it," Snow said with a shrug. "I've dealt with way worse. Besides, your mom takes up most of the bed anyway…this bed is probably the same amount of space I normally sleep on."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Get ready for bed. Tomorrow's gonna be a long day, kid."

She nodded once and grabbed the smallest of her bags, heading for the bathroom. She paused at the door. "Can you tell me what the plan is yet?"

"Nope. It's a surprise."

She threw her head back in mock exasperation and groaned before retreating into the bathroom. Ten minutes later she stepped out, her hair sopping wet and wearing pajamas that looked suspiciously like her brother's.

Snow bid her goodnight and turned off the light before taking his turn in the bathroom. By the time he came out, Nora had already passed out, asleep.

...*...*...

He was shaken out of bed the next morning. "Dad," he heard an urgent voice whisper. "Dad, get up."

A glance at the clock told him it was just past nine in the morning. He hadn't slept that late in ages. "What's wrong?" he mumbled, scrubbing at his face to shake the sleep out of him.

Nora gave the door a sideways glance, looking wary. "Somebody's knocking."

He paused just in time to hear the gentle knock, followed by an equally quiet call of "cleaning service". Snow scratched at his chest beneath his shirt and stood, shuffling to the door and peering out. The hotel's maid staff was just outside. "Sorry, we're not ready yet," he mumbled, shutting the door before they could respond.

When he turned around he saw Nora had brass knuckles wrapped between the fingers of both her fists, which clenched at her sides. Her body was tight and ready to fight.

 _I forget that she has no experience with this kind of stuff._

Snow sighed and scratched his neck. "Just room service. In hotels, they come by every morning and clean your room."

Her eyes narrowed. Despite being an even mix of Lightning and Snow, she looked remarkably like her mother at the moment. " _They_ clean your room? Why?"

"I dunno, just a courtesy. They clean up a little, change your sheets, give you extra shampoo and shit. It makes your experience nice," he added, earning a laugh.

Slowly her weapons were slid from her hands. " _Nice_ is scary when you're not expecting it."

He smirked in response. "Speaking of not expecting things, we should probably start getting ready. We've got some daylight to kill before going to where we need to go." He saw the raised, hopeful brow. "Still not telling. Just go get changed into your regular clothes. We'll grab some breakfast and wander around a little bit."

She disappeared into the bathroom in a flash.

Hours later he was wandering through the streets of Academia with Nora tight to his side. The crowds and noise of the city were still getting to her, he could tell, but she seemed utterly entranced by the lights and music all around her. Though it was midday during the week, and thus less crowded, the stores were still open and doing all they could to attract customers.

He let Nora choose where she wanted to go, and she stopped into any store that held things of remote interest. Several electronics shops were perused, and every time they spotted a weapons store Snow would be dragged in by the cuff of his sleeve. By accident she wandered into a giant sporting goods complex, where they wandered for damn near an hour before finding their way out. Only one clothing store was visited, and when inside she laughed at all the ridiculous clothes that she saw before shaking her head and leaving.

She had a small sum of money to spend but she was an exceptionally careful spender. She'd yet to find anything that she wanted to take home with her – she was too practical for most of the items they'd stumbled upon. A part of him wished she knew how to let loose and have a little fun, wished that she was more like him in that regard, but if she were then she wouldn't be herself. He sighed at the thought and returned to staring hungrily at the remote-control helicopter while Nora tried out a 3-D archery range.

"There's no way I suck this bad," she spat bitterly, loosing a fourth arrow. It sang through the air and completely missed the target. Again. "This game is rigged."

Snow took the visor and fake bow from her, went through the motions of preparing himself and the arrow, and then released. The head of the pixelated arrow buried itself into the center of the target.

Snow turned to Nora with a cocky smirk plastered on his face. She was furious.

"Bull. Beginner's luck." She marched forward and pointed at the target. "Try again."

He shrugged, nocked another arrow, aimed, and shot. This one sailed as true as the last. Before he could gloat, the visor was ripped from his skull and plopped onto Nora's head. She grabbed the bow and pushed him aside. Her fifth attempt was still as crappy as the first four.

She was seething. Nora was a lot of things, but a good loser was not one of them.

It took him ten minutes to tear her away from the practice area. By the time he did, she was red-faced and he was pretty sure the blood vessels in her forehead were ready to pop.

"There, there," he said through a grin, "we can't be good at everything, you know."

"That was complete bullshit, dad," she hissed. "Mom taught me how to shoot. There's no way I should have missed."

"Mom taught you how to shoot a _gun_ , Nora," Snow corrected. "Guns and bows are totally different." He guided her around the town for a bit longer before spotting the shop he had been looking for. "Don't worry too much about it. If you really want to learn how to shoot a bow, ask Aunt Serah."

Nora nodded solemnly, vowing to do just that once they got home. _She really does suck at losing…_

She was sullen as they walked through the doors of the next shop. Judging by the time, it would probably be one of the last before heading back to the hotel and changing for the real event of the trip, but he wouldn't mention anything of the sort to Nora quite yet.

The shop they were in now was a small, but well-respected jewelry shop in the heart of Academia. Precious stones of all shapes and sizes glittered beneath their glass shells, sparkling in the perfect lighting of the store. Right away a man swept over from a corner of the store and plastered on an amicable smile while giving the two of them a once-over. His smile faltered. "Can I assist you today?"

"Nora, help me find something for your mom." Snow shooed his daughter away to look. She complied, easily, and that surprised him. He shook his head, then returned his focus to the shopkeeper and lowered his voice. "I have an order to pick up."

"Ah," the man seemed a little surprised by this and readjusted his glasses. "Under what name?"

At that he hesitated. "I'm not sure. It will either be under Snow or Lightning Villiers…or maybe Hope Estheim. I don't know."

"Estheim," the man breathed. His smile came back.

"Yeah. He came in and ordered it for us. Hope comes to town more often than I do."

"I know just what you're referring to!" His voice was chipper and sunny and he was looking at Snow in a completely different light than he was two minutes prior. With a flourish he disappeared behind a door and came back moments later carrying a small package. "Of course, I'll have to ask for your identification, sir. Procedure, of course…"

They went through the rigamarole of releasing the object into Snow's possession, which only took a couple of minutes. Thankfully Nora was at the complete opposite end of the shop and didn't notice anything happening. "For your wife, sir?"

"No. My daughter's birthday." He scribbled his name on the document in front of him, trying to remember the last time he had signed something so official – it must have been a couple decades ago.

The man eyed Nora and nodded to himself. "I see, I see." He gathered the documents and straightened them. "Might I ask how you know Mister Estheim? His is a well-known, and highly respected, name around these parts."

There was a momentary scramble to come up with a decent excuse. He hadn't thought that Hope's name would be so easily recognized, and now he wondered just how popular the fair-haired wonder was in these parts. "We, uh, used to work together. Long time ago. Still friends though," he added, shifting under the man's curious gaze. He pocketed the wrapped gift he had received and moved to scratch his neck. "Thanks," he said, a little awkwardly, and then stepped away to join Nora at the back of the shop.

She was eyeing all the necklaces on display in the back, her nose hovering barely an inch above the polished glass. "Do you think mom would like something like this?" she asked and pointed down, not bothering to look over at Snow.

A quick glance down answered his question. "Nope," he said flatly, spotting the still-too-familiar outline of a fragile, silver Cocoon. "Maybe a necklace, but probably not one that looks like that," he explained. At his daughter's prompting, he mentioned something about her not having many great memories while on Cocoon and left it at that.

They left the store and glanced around outside for their next destination. Nora pointed somewhere off in the distance and tugged on his arm to take him to wherever it was that she wanted to go. Snow followed wordlessly, fingering the item in his inside pocket that he just bought. He was trying to figure out the best time to—

"Why doesn't mom have an engagement necklace?"

Nora's voice had a suspicious edge to it. Was she wondering, perhaps, if Lightning and Snow were truly married?

And, more importantly, how should Snow even begin to explain this situation?

Words were chewed on for several seconds. Once he started speaking, he hesitated. "I…wanted to be different than everyone else. _We_ were different than everyone else. It just…made sense."

He felt the sharp gaze of those crystalline eyes. "Different? You mean, branded?"

Mental appreciation was given to her for not saying "l'Cie" out loud in a place like this. She remembered some lessons, at least. "That's one reason, yeah."

"And the other reasons?"

Snow looked to her, saw the deep spark of curiosity that spoke of his own nature. It was probably natural to want to get to know more about your parents, wasn't it? He supposed that might be the case, though he had little experience with such feelings. "The other reasons…" he scratched his neck. "I made a mistake once, one that hurt a lot of people." He paused and took a deep breath. "It hurt your mother, too. My promise to Lightning – to your mom – I wanted it to be different, and giving her a ring instead of a necklace was the first way I tried to prove that."

Nora nodded silently by his side and cast her glance off into a store filled with hideous clothing. There was no way she was interested in it. "What was the mistake you made?"

He considered telling her. She had every right to know – and there was no reason to keep it a secret anymore. Everyone had moved on, peace had been made, and Serah and Lightning were best friends again and Snow and Serah were able to awkwardly get along. But this - was it his secret to tell? "I think you should ask your mom about this. She'll probably tell you. I don't know if it should come from me."

"Why not?"

" _Because,_ Nora. Just ask your mom. You'll understand why."

There was a moment where she didn't respond to him, and that moment filled Snow with some tension that he didn't understand. Finally his daughter nodded and cast her eyes back to him. "All right." She looked back at the store with the god-awful designer wear. "Wanna go try that crap on and make fun of everyone that wears it?"

Snow quietly thanked whoever was watching out for him before grinning. "Hell yes." He touched her arm and gently pressed her forward.

* * *

Lightning peeked into the living room and smirked at the sight.

The curls of an afro, surrounded by two puffs of gold and white. All three sleeping on the blanket spread across the floor.

 _They're finally asleep. Don't know how Sazh worked his magic._

It was a miracle, really. The twins _never_ napped. They were two demons from hell who lived to terrorize anyone and everyone in the household, never relenting until the house was a whirlwind of chaos and destruction, until their mother was ready to snap and huddle in a corner on the verge of tears. She couldn't even _remember_ the last time they had settled down for five minutes during the day, and yet here they were, sleeping next to Sazh, who had arrived maybe twenty minutes prior complaining of a backache.

What the hell did he give them?

She saw a figure of blonde and tan silently creep down the stairs, appraising the scene below him with an upraised brow. He cast Lightning a gaze that was just as confused as hers. Not knowing what to respond with, she shook her head helplessly.

Gingerly her son creeped over to her side, watching his younger siblings and his uncle sleep for a few seconds before a breathy sigh escaped from him.

She glanced over at the boy and smiled to herself. He was the ghost of his father, from the oversized feet to the dashing smile that he freely offered to everyone. She never thought there was anything of her in him, but Snow often said there were nuggets of her personality deposited all over the place within her eldest son. She supposed that could have been true, that maybe he was still trying to grow into all the facets of his personality in the same way he was trying to grow into the strong, lumbering body he'd inherited and the name that had been passed to him.

Her eyes swiveled to the sleeping forms in the living room before looking back to her son. "Fang."

"What?"

"Bored?"

"Yeah."

"Good." She tilted her head back. "Freezer's almost empty. Let's kill something."

Fang cracked his knuckles and grinned. "Finally."


	2. Chapter 2

Two hours had passed since they were kindly asked to remove themselves from the designer clothing store. Now, well-dressed and slightly uncomfortable with it, they were walking up to a brightly-lit casino, bypassing the long line for entrance and instead seeking the VIP-only entrance. Snow, ignoring the curious stare from Nora, produced two special tickets from the breast of his black suit, tickets that Hope had acquired for him, and presented them to the guard. The guard barely glanced at them before nodding and moving aside, granting the two of them entrance.

They walked into the main hall of the casino and, right away, he could see Nora's eyes bulge at the sights around her. The sounds in here were totally different from anywhere else, from the metallic _clang_ of money being dispensed to the drunken laughs and the delicate tinkling of expensive jewelry…every sound was new, and it looked like Nora was overwhelmed by it all.

His hand dropped onto Nora's shoulder and guided her to the side, away from the main hubbub and towards an upscale restaurant that shimmered even from here. As they approached, the host bowed his head. "Do you have reservations, sir?"

"Yeah," Snow said, offering Nora a smile. "Two, under Villiers."

The man checked his list and then nodded. "Of course, sir. Right this way."

He felt Nora stiffen as they were led through a dimly-lit restaurant that was carpeted with rich, plush red carpets and lined with heavy drapery. Candles flickered from every table and the light reflected off of the many jewels and trinkets that everyone seemed to wear. Dresses glittered in the candlelight while delicious smells lingered in the air; the scent of food mixed with the subtle grace of cologne.

There was a small table near the back of the restaurant, near a darkened window that showed the bustle of the outside street. The host began to pull out a seat for Nora, but Snow shooed him away and took the process over. Nora, entirely unsure about everything that was going on, hesitantly sat down and Snow pushed the seat in for her. He was glad he remembered this much from his earlier days of courting, before Lightning came along. Somewhere along the lines of constantly fighting for their lives and being punched in the face, Snow had forgotten how to be a proper gentleman to his wife - a fact he would try to amend when he returned home.

Now starving, Snow eagerly took his own seat and immediately looked at the menu.

Nora watched him for a second before following suit. Her eyes flickered over the pages momentarily, then lifted back up to him. "…what am I doing, dad?"

He looked up at her, his eyes questioning, then he realized what she meant. She'd never been to a restaurant – she'd never even been outside of their small village before. Every meal had been a home-cooked one, either in their own abode or at one of her aunts' houses. This whole idea of going somewhere and picking food from a piece of paper for strangers to prepare for you probably made no sense to her.

Sometimes he forgot about the things they lost after the Fall.

He straightened himself, cleared his throat. "Alright, so, this is a menu. It tells you all the food that they make. You look at it, read what they have, and then pick the stuff that sounds the best to eat."

"Really?" She opened the book and peered at it, her eyes shining bright in the candlelight. "They just make whatever you want?"

"Yeah. A little different than home, huh?" Their eyes caught each others and both laughed. Everyone learned the hard way not to request anything other than what Lightning made.

They spent some time going over the menu and decoding all the foreign words there, trying to make sense of everything being offered. After nearly fifteen minutes they were finally ready to order, and Nora alone ordered enough for two. Snow inwardly cringed: since the restaurant had neglected to list prices, Nora didn't realize that all these things would cost something. He guessed that would have to be a lesson for a different day: he didn't want to make her feel bad now.

The waiter left, leaving a pleased Nora behind. She wasn't one to smile as widely as she was doing now, so he couldn't help grinning either. "What's with that look?"

"This is nice," she shrugged, trying to smother her feelings and failing. Seemingly embarrassed, she looked down and plucked at the dress she was wearing. "Mom bought this for me?"

"Yeah." He looked at the dress, simple and elegant, understated while on the hanger but, on Nora, it looked lovely. It also helped that it was modest – Lightning would have died before picking out something for Nora that showed too much skin. "Your mom snuck away a couple months ago and bought it for you. She packed that second bag, you know."

They had returned to their hotel about an hour before coming here, where Snow handed Nora the pack Lightning had prepared and told her to change into it. Nora had pulled out the black and red dress, the low-heeled pumps, and the bracelet with some confusion and a bit of delight. She came out of the bathroom looking ten years older and it made Snow strangely emotional.

She was his first child, his little girl, and now she was growing up. Soon she'd find herself a boyfriend, get married…

 _Don't get ahead of yourself, old man._

"How long have you guys been planning this?"

"A while," he responded, grabbing the bread in the center of the table. "We wanted to do something special for your sixteenth birthday, but we didn't know what to do. We've been brainstorming since last year, really. We, uh," he coughed. "We didn't have much experience with this kind of thing when we were your age, so this was all new to us."

Nora followed Snow's actions and grabbed some bread too. She slathered butter all over it, then ripped a huge piece off to eat. She might look the part of a lady, but she still had a ways to go. "What do you mean, you don't have much experience?"

Snow's fingers tapped his chin in thought. He and Lightning never talked much about their past, especially not with the kids. Lightning did everything she could do to avoid the topic and Snow never thought to bring it up. "Well…" He saw the curiosity in her eyes and sighed. "Your mom's parents died when she was pretty young. She joined the Guardian Corps – the police force back then – and raised your Aunt Serah on her own. I grew up in an orphanage with your Aunt Lebreau and Uncle Gadot. So, uh…" he saw the look of surprise that took over Nora's features and realized why Lightning must hate bringing the topic up. "Yeah."

"I didn't know that."

"It's not something we go around telling everyone."

"Why not? It's not like it's anything bad. A lot of kids in town were orphans—"

"It was different then, Nora. Me, Gadot, Lebreau, your uncle Yuj and Maqui, we grew up together in a building full of kids that had no parents. The only people we had were each other; there wasn't a village to look out for us. And your mom…" He looked to the side, fiddled with a fork. "Your mom gave up everything she had so she could keep Serah out of the orphanage. By the time she was your age, she was GC, dropped out of school, and went to the funerals for both of her parents. For her, her memories of Cocoon aren't good. She doesn't like thinking about them. And me, well, everything in my life is here, so there was never much point thinking about what was left behind."

A nod started, but Nora paused midway. "Wait. _All_ of you guys were orphans?"

At Snow's confirmation, Nora's mouth fell open. "It's probably why everyone loves Grandpa Sazh so much. He came into the picture and took us all under his wing and beat some sense into everyone."

"Did you know him before everything happened?"

"No. Your mom met him when Serah disappeared, and he followed along after that."

A long finger traced the edge of her glass while she thought. "What about Hope?"

Snow chuckled awkwardly, shifted in his seat. "We found him at about the same time as Grandpa Sazh."

Sharp eyes lasered in on Snow's obvious discomfort. "Do you not like Uncle Hope? Sometimes you guys act a little weird around each other."

"We get along just fine, Nora." _She sees way too much._ "Sometimes we just have disagreements."

"Do you guys have a lot of disagreements, then?"

"Nora," he warned. "We get along fine. Don't worry about it."

At that, Nora's questions ceased.

A strange silence settled on the table, one caused entirely by Snow. He couldn't think of a conversation topic to hold that wouldn't seem like an obvious transition, so he reached into his pocket and drew out the package within. _If it was going to be an obvious transition, might as well make it a glamorous one._ "So, this is all your birthday gift, but this is the main present from your mom and me."

He held out the package to her, which she snatched up to open, already leaving the soured conversation far behind her. When the lid popped up, she grinned and grabbed the necklace in it. "Dad." She held up the hand-fashioned piece of titanium and silver and let it glimmer in the light. Hanging from its center was a silhouette of Ragnarok, a shape the jeweler probably didn't understand, but had crafted perfectly. "Dad, this is amazing."

Snow nodded a little to himself, wishing the image didn't still fill him with sadness. "I'm glad you like it," he said, smiling softly. Nora was smitten with the tale of how the l'Cie came to save Cocoon, of the Fall, of everything surrounding the story of why their village was what it had to be. Making this necklace for her only seemed appropriate. "We don't know what the future has in store for you but, wherever you go, don't forget where you came from."

She was already putting the necklace on herself. "Never." Once on, her fingers traced the edge of the charm. "Ragnarok," she breathed slowly. "They were supposed to destroy Cocoon, right?"

Snow glanced around nervously before nodding. "Yeah. And they did."

"But they saved it too."

"Right."

A thoughtful silence. "They came from Pulse?"

"From Oerba, yeah."

"Where did you and mom come from?"

Snow looked at his daughter, watched her eyes move from the pendant to him. "We were from a beach town called Bodhum."

"Did you know mom before, then? Before…everything?"

Snow scratched his chin. "You could say that."

"Meaning?"

"We didn't get along very well. For a long time."

"Why not?"

 _She's like a bull when she wants answers._ "She was a difficult person to get along with. And I was an idiot."

"Why?"

"For a lot of reasons, Nora. One of them being that promise I made, the one that hurt a lot of people."

She nodded slowly. "Okay."

He watched as she fell back into silence, still fiddling with her gift. He could tell she was deep in thought, and sometimes she could get lost in that mind of hers. A minute or two was granted for her to make a path through the maze that was her brain, and then Snow slowly, quietly, spoke.

"Like I said earlier, I don't have a lot to base all of this off of." He spied the waiter at the far corner of the restaurant coming with their food. "So, I hope I'm doing okay. Raising you has been…good. It's been great. Being with your mom and having you guys has been everything I ever wanted, but I don't know how I'm doing, so if you have—"

He stopped abruptly when the waiter came to their table with a mountain of expensive food piled onto a tray. Nora's eyes were glowing with excitement, and it took her only two seconds to dig into the first pasta dish laid before her. Snow, already forgetting what he had mentioned, smirked to himself and thanked the waiter.

* * *

Two shadows inched through the woods outside of town, expertly stepping over every obstacle in their path. Both sets of eyes were focused forward, on a pack of wild, scavenging dogs that had been coming too close to town recently. They were still a ways away, but the animals wouldn't know what was coming until it was too late.

Two gunblades were stretched completely open, held firmly within two different grips. Fang's hand was a little _too_ tense, and that would affect the fluidity of his motions later – Lightning made a mental note to correct him when he got home. But, for now, they were going to be fine. She didn't want to break his concentration.

She watched his bright eyes flash as they peered down a straight nose at their prey; as they sought the best path to victory through the curtain of fine, golden strands that skittered across his forehead. The rest of his hair had been trained backwards by a nervous gesture, the equivalent of Snow rubbing his neck all the time, but the results made Fang's hair even more similar to that of his father's old self. Broad shoulders and were curled in, making him as small as possible, but never quite small enough - a muscled arm or stout leg would often get grabbed by a vine or twig, a constant reminder that he'd never be the stealthy rogue he wished he could be.

The sight made Lightning bite back a smile before she returned her attention forward.

Whatever had held the animals' attention was gone and the dogs looked like they were about to move. Lightning, seeing the obvious change in demeanor, held up her hand to make Fang wait. While they were watching, seeing which way the feral animals would go, Fang leaned over and tapped her shoulder. "Thirty gil says I get the first kill," he whispered, his voice a low rumble to her side. The grin in his voice was entirely audible, and that simply wouldn't do.

Lightning looked at him and nodded, stone-faced, agreeing to his terms even while she flicked her wrist and changed her sword into its gun form. Within a second she had pulled the trigger and shot the biggest dog in the pack directly between the eyes. It fell over, dead, before the others could even register what had happened.

"You're just like your father," Lightning cooed, patting her son's cheek affectionately before darting forward to scare the other dogs away.

Fang scowled and followed behind.


	3. Chapter 3

After finishing dinner and attending a musical that neither one of them could begin to understand, Snow and Nora once again found themselves wandering aimlessly through the wide, twisting roads of the city. Though many sights were familiar to them by now, the atmosphere seemed dramatically different under the twinkling street lights and decorative bulbs hanging from thin wires above their heads. It seemed magical, almost; like the way fireflies dancing in a field can turn a regular summer night into something magical.

Nora looked exhausted but was so overstimulated from everything she had seen and heard that she was still able to drag herself to the next store, and the one proceeding that. Snow, also feeling the heaviness in his eyes, could only sigh and shake his head, following behind his daughter a couple steps so he could watch the night lights shine in her eyes and reflect off her new necklace. He knew this was a rare opportunity for him, to watch her discover a world so different from her own, and the mixed sense of happiness and sadness this brought him could only be described as _joy._

Eventually the sounds of people walking, talking, and laughing were overcome by swelling music, and then even that music was defeated by a strange, rhythmic dinging that sounded distantly familiar, like a song from ages past. He tried to place it, tried to think back into his youth to remember what it could be, and he was so distracted that he completely missed the fact that Nora had paused in her tracks.

"Dad," she said when Snow walked straight into her - the impact didn't even cause her to budge in her spot. "Look." He saw the fire in her eyes and, curious, he followed her gaze over to the side. There he saw what had acquired her interest, and it also answered the question that had been nagging at him.

There in the near distance was an arcade, nearly exact replica of the kind that he used to visit in his younger years. The brightly-colored lights, the din of the games, and the excitement of the people within all helped the memories of him and Gadot wreaking havoc decades earlier spring to mind. His eyes scanned across the windows, still looking for the source of Nora's interest, and then he saw it in the window: a VR boxing ring, and across its screen flashed the damning words: "NEW HIGH SCORE!"

"We can beat this," Nora asserted, with more confidence than he'd ever heard in her voice – and _that_ was saying something. She stood with her fists curled at her side, stood there in her mini heels and delicate gown, donning a hairstyle that had taken her damn near an hour to perfect, and for a split second he began to open his mouth to object.

Then he caught himself and shook his head. "Damn Farron blood, I tell you…" Without saying anything more, he pulled Nora close to him and squeezed her shoulder, guiding her forward into the arcade that was now calling both their names. They made a beeline to the boxing ring, their outfits causing a few people to scratch their heads, and then stopped at the side of the ring to read the instructions.

"I _so_ got this," Nora said, rubbing her hands and reexamining the high score with a sneer. She lifted her dress up to her thighs, revealing the always-necessary safety shorts beneath, and climbed into the ring. Her presence, her dress, and her looks earned a few whistles of appreciation from the mostly-male crowd, a fact that made Snow's eye twitch, but he tried his best to ignore them while Nora slid on the provided gloves and slammed her hand down on the "start" button.

It didn't take long for the flirtatious whistles and jeers to be silenced.

Nora was a force of nature, both in attitude and battle aptitude. Of course, considering her parents, it was a bit of a given, but even Snow found himself impressed by her at times. Like now, for instance: despite having no previous knowledge of the random foes she encountered, she was still able to hold her own against the holographic bad guys being presented to her. She ducked and weaved through their arms, popped up at just the right moment to throw a punch at their chin before whisking herself well out of the reach of her enemy. She was as graceful in the ring as a ballerina was on the dance floor, and as each round passed and the sweat beaded at Nora's temple, Snow could only feel pride bubbling within himself, even as the lovely gown she wore tore at the seams.

She punched her way through nearly thirty rounds before she finally backed away, satisfied by how she had utterly demolished the new high score that had been set less than an hour before. She watched as the initials of her name scrolled across the screen, followed by a number that almost doubled second place, and she turned triumphantly, put a hand on her cocked hip, and grinned. "Good luck beating me, old man."

Snow, never one to back down from a challenge, smirked at her teasing lilt. He considered where he was and the crowd around them for half a second before his eyes fell back on his cocky daughter, full of fire and vigor. Knowing that she knew exactly how to get his goat, Snow could only shake his head, crack his knuckles, and charge her.

They didn't stop wrestling until they got kicked out of the arcade fifteen minutes later.

* * *

Lightning and Fang sat splay-legged in front of the freezer that they had just finished packing full of meat. It had been an ordeal, and decisions had to be made on what to keep and what to dispose of in order to get all their hard-earned protein inside. One of those decisions revolved around the carton of homemade ice cream that was now within Lightning's grasp, mostly empty and a bit melted. The old-timey, pure vanilla flavor was as delicious as ever on her tongue and, not really able to help herself, she scooped herself up another spoonful and shoved it into her mouth.

A nudge on her arm told her she had hogged the dessert for too long. Without thinking, she passed the carton to Fang, who got himself an equally heaping spoonful before Lightning brought the container back to her lap. This process repeated for a solid five minutes more before either of them spoke.

Unsurprisingly, it was Fang who chimed up first - but the topic wasn't at all what Lightning had expected. "One of the guys in town called Nora a bitch," he said dully after swallowing a mouthful of dessert.

Lightning's spoon-to-mouth movement stopped; her spoon hung in mid-air. "And?" she prompted, her eyes boring into Fang's profile.

"I punched him."

"Good." Another bite taken, another motion of offering to Fang. Of course he accepted the carton that was presented, but this time his motions were a little slower, a little more thoughtful.

"I broke his nose," he admitted after his next bite. There may have been a trace of regret there - or was that pride? It was always hard to tell with him.

"Even better," she muttered, doing everything she could to withhold a grunt of approval.

They ate the remainder of the ice cream in prolonged, but comfortable, silence. Once it was done they continued sitting there, assessing the damage they had just inflicted on their bodies by eating half a gallon of ice cream between the two of them. Both knew they would pay for it later, but neither really seemed to care: it seemed _so_ worth it when they started, and even now their bellies were pretty damn happy.

"Nora doesn't know about it," Fang said slowly, cautiously picking up where he had left off. "So don't tell her."

 _Of course._

His concern had nothing to do with Nora finding out that somebody had called her a bitch. That happened regularly, and Nora was far too happy to defend herself when that situation arose. No, this was related to something _entirely_ different.

"Don't worry," Lightning said, chuckling to herself. "I'll never tell her what a good brother you are."

Fang tried valiantly to pretend to be indifferent about his sister, about his siblings, about life itself, but Lightning knew better: the passion that ran through Snow's veins was passed down to Fang twofold, and though Fang desperately wanted to be the angsty, uncaring teen that the majority of others seemed to be, his blood refused to allow him that privilege. "You won't?" he asked, his voice comically pleading.

"Promise."

He sighed audibly in relief. "Thanks, mom."

Of course, she wouldn't mention that Nora knew all of those things about Fang. It also didn't seem right to mention that Nora had already regaled the same exact story of Fang's defense to both Lightning and Snow.

She also wouldn't tell him that, right before her trip, Nora had made this ice cream specifically for her brother in thanks - that would just ruin the fun of it all.

"No problem," she smiled, nudging him with her shoulder. "My lips are sealed."


End file.
